


A First Kiss (excerpt from a WIP)

by bathshebaoak



Category: Riverdale (TV 2017)
Genre: Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/M, First Kiss, Fluff, Southside Serpent Betty Cooper (mentions of), Working title, be nice please!, idk what else lol, soft!Jughead, this is an excerpt of something else so, this is my first fic sO
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-24
Updated: 2018-09-24
Packaged: 2019-07-16 13:32:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,983
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16087103
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bathshebaoak/pseuds/bathshebaoak
Summary: They meet on the usual night, at the usual time, and almost immediately Jughead can sense that something is wrong. She can see his concern in the arch of his eyebrows, the unasked question on his open lips. When exactly did she become so readable?Betty is a Serpent, and Jughead is a Northside Golden Boy. This is just a part of a lengthier work I have in progress, but I got excited about this because this is the first fic I've ever worked on, so I'm posting. Please comment and share if you like!!





	A First Kiss (excerpt from a WIP)

They meet on the usual night, at the usual time, and almost immediately Jughead can sense that something is wrong. She can see his concern in the arch of his eyebrows, the unasked question on his open lips. When exactly did she become so readable?

His fingers brush ever-so-lightly over her knuckles as they walk towards the overlook. He’s still not quite sure what to do with her; Betty is not feeling so unsure. Not tonight. She tangles her fingers with his, allows him to correct their hands as she feels the tension melt from him.

Jughead pulls her to the picnic table, watches her as she sits atop the aging wood of the tabletop, holding her hand all the while. The green of his eyes pierce hers, even in the faint moonlight, for what seems to be an eternity, and Betty cannot help but duck her head. There is fear there, for her or of her, but she doesn’t care to know which. Selfishly, she wants to steal all the unencumbered moments from him that she can.

He stands for a moment more, still watching her, then slowly lowers himself to the bench, angling his body so that he can rest his arm on her leg while still holding her hand. Betty, despite the sureness she is now feeling when it comes to Jughead, or maybe because of it, cannot help the small breath that escapes her lips when his torso presses against the length of her leg. She wonders if his skin is on fire too.

His free hand comes up to rest on their joined hands, and he looks up at Betty. “What is it?”

She sighs and rolls her eyes, embarrassed, exasperated, charmed. “Would you believe me if I said absolutely nothing?”

He smiles, eyes crinkling at the corners. (If he kept smiling like that, she could almost believe herself.) “No,” he says, softly but firmly.

To Betty’s surprise, a tear burns at the corner of her eye. She feels the telltale tightness in her throat, and for a moment, burns not at Jughead’s touch, but with fury for herself. Why do I think I deserve this, him? she thinks. What have I ever done, will I ever do, to be worthy of him? Why am I letting this happen?

His hand squeezes hers again, bringing her back to the moment. “Hey, Betty… please. Tell me what’s wrong. Why are you crying?”

A few more tears spring forward despite her best efforts. “You,” she says with effort. “You are wrong.”

He blanches, his eyes wide, and he immediately moves to remove his hands from hers. But Betty holds on tight. “I—” he breathes.

“No,” she smiles wryly, shakes her head. “Not like that. It’s just that… you’re good. So good. Better than I could ever hope to deserve. And you’re just… sitting here with me. Like this is how it should be.”

“Betty, you—”

“No, you know, Jug—” she chokes on the emotion of her words, trying desperately to hang on to her composure while letting go of everything that’s been building inside her over the last few weeks. “—I want to say this, because its been eating me up for weeks. I never really bought into that Northside-Southside bullshit, because I always, always knew that, in the end, we were all shitty people. I was sure. And it was nice. And when Southside High burned down and then suddenly we were going to school with the cast of Friday Night Lights, I was still sure. Even the people I knew, the people I consider friends, we all have shitty stuff.

“I thought that about you, too. I thought, oh, golden boy Jughead Jones, who couldn’t be bothered to give me the time of day as a kid and would probably try to Rip Van Winkle me now, he’s just like the rest of us. An inflated sense of self-importance propping up a weak personality. I kept thinking it up until you walked up to me at the gas station that night. Right up until you opened your stupid mouth. I thought, great, the Southside kids are actually doing alright at Riverdale, and here comes Mr. Jock to punish me for it. And then you just… didn’t. You were fucking… fucking protecting your sister. And I tried so hard to hang on to it. That idea that we were all shitty and it was okay. But you’re not. You’re… beautiful, and sweet, and kind, and giving. It’s me that’s shitty and self-important. And I’m not saying I’m the only one, but I just—” Her eyes, which had been looking intently at their joined hands, finally fall on his face. It’s dark, but she doesn’t need much light to see the sadness there. Betty forces herself to keep her eyes on his, even as her voice comes out more strangled than before.

“How can you stand to be here with me? I’m the daughter of a gang leader, for chrissakes, his fucking… heir! I’ve never considered being anything else, and if I’m being honest, I never wanted to. And sure, maybe I’m trying to change things but… Jughead, there are so many things we’ve done, things I haven’t tried to prevent, things I just let happen. And I’m still in a fucking gang. I’m not— you shouldn’t—”

Betty stops, looks up so that she can swallow a sob, but fails when she feels Jughead’s lips on the back of her hand. Her head snaps down, and she watches as he moves from her hand to her knee, back to her hand, and up her arm as he rises to sit next to her on the table. Her tears are flowing freely now, but she is too stunned to make a noise. There is so much care and gentleness in the touch of his skin to hers, she’s afraid it can’t be real. She blinks slowly, willing herself to wake up from this self-imposed torture.

But suddenly she feels the fingers of one of his hands on her jaw, gently pressing her face towards his. He eyes flutter open, and suddenly he’s there, right in front of her. Just as close as they were the night before, and yet somehow miles closer.

His thumb traces the channel of tears on her face, and his eyes follow his thumb, until finally their eyes meet again. He’s smiling sadly. “You know, when JB first told me about her plan to join up with you, I told her…” he sighs, eyes searching hers, “I told her not to bother calling me when she got stabbed or OD’d, because she was clearly beyond saving.”

Betty blinked in surprise, and Jughead bit his lip harshly, like he was trying to punish himself. “I know, but I was just so… so fucking tired. I’m seventeen, you know? My mom had just left, and even before then, it was just me being JB’s surrogate parent. We were basically living in the house of strangers. And I was tired of taking care of her. I didn’t want to be responsible for her because I was afraid I was going to fail and have to live with it forever. And I couldn’t stomach it so I just pushed—shoved her, really. I didn’t want to deal with it.”

“Juggie…”

His thumb stroked her cheek again. “Betty. You were right before. We’re all shitty. But it doesn’t have to be that way. There’s time to make up for your mistakes. There’s opportunities to do better. There’s room to grow. And I want to grow with you. That’s why I’m here, tolerating your presence,” he chuckles, eyes brightening when she allows herself to smile. More quietly, he adds, “Anyway, I knew I’d end up here a long time ago. It was just a matter of time.”

Betty shivers a little at these words, and she’s about to ask him what he means when he speaks again, this time his voice nothing but a whisper.

“Can I kiss you, Betty Cooper?”

Her mouth drops open ever so slightly, and she gives a small nod.

He gets closer and closer, and suddenly he’s there, lips on hers. For a moment, she keeps her eyes open, still disbelieving of the last fifteen minutes, of the last six weeks. She wants to be sure that it is truly Jughead Jones in front of her.

But then his tongue traces the seam of her lips, and she thinks that, if this a dream, she doesn’t care to wake up.

Her hands find their way to his neck and his hair, one pressing lightly at the meeting of his shoulders while the other weaves through his thick curls. His beanie must be in his car, she thinks thickly, unable to remember it on his head when they met up here. Her mouth falls open in a sigh, and he takes it as an opportunity to push his tongue deeper.

Betty follows Jughead’s movements, allowing him to show her how to respond to his ministrations in kind. Vaguely, she wonders if she’s doing this right, but then she hears his groans, feels them in the back of his throat, and she can’t help the smile that breaks on her lips. It all feels so distinctly teenaged, and she loves it.

After a few minutes, she reluctantly breaks from him, lungs burning for air. Her eyes are still closed, but she can feel his gaze tickling her skin, making her shiver. The tears have left her skin feeling stiff, and the cold is seeping into her bones, but she can’t stop smiling. Jughead’s warm breath spreads on her skin.

“Sorry, I know we were talking, I just… couldn’t wait anymore.”

“Mmm,” Betty happily intones. She opens her eyes to look at him, this beautiful boy she now knows she could kiss forever, but he’s gone. The feeling of insanity bubbles up again in her frenzied brain, but before it can become anything cohesive, she feels his lips again, this time at the hinge of her jaw.

“Oh!”

Jughead laughs, a deep, throaty sound. “I didn’t think you were capable of being surprised, but I’ve gotta say… I really like it.”

She hears the weakness in her voice as she speaks, but continues anyway. “I’m not usually… I don’t really find myself in this situation very often.”

He moves his lips closer to the point of her chin, keeping them on her skin even as he talks. “Not to be a complete neanderthal, but I’m glad. Deliriously happy, actually, to be the one you’re trusting with this.”

She responds only with a small tug on his hair, a silent assent to keep going.

He switches to the other side of her jaw, talking all the while. “You were right, Betty, but you were wrong, too.” A lingering kiss just behind her ear. “You are beautiful.” Another, on the mole at the base of her jaw. “And sweet.” This one on her jugular. “And kind.” Closer to her collar bone. “And so goddamn giving.” At the meeting of her neck and her shoulder. He moves up to her ear again and breathes. “You’re so much stronger than anyone I’ve ever known. I’m the lucky one, Betty.”

He kisses her cheek before wiping the new tears that have fallen from the corners of her eyes, pressing a chaste kiss to her lips, and nuzzling back into her neck. Jughead already seems to have a sense of the pleasure she gets from his lips in this particular spot, and leaves them there, unmoving.

Despite Jughead’s soft words, worry still rolls around in her head, and yet, Betty cannot help but feel the affection in his touch. More than feel, she believes in that affection, and it feels… decadent. Like it is overly sweet, not meant to be consumed. She feels gluttonous for wanting more.

**Author's Note:**

> I posted this on my sideblog on tumblr (ladiebyrd.tumblr.com) so follow me there or on my main (bathsheba-oak.tumblr.com)!


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